Bracing one of his hands on my hip, Axel wedges the other underneath me, driving into me like a man possessed.

Normally, I wouldn’t get anything out of that.

Yet, those fingers gripping my dick feel like heaven, coaxing me closer and closer to the brink despite the near violent way he’s thrashing into my body.

He’s damn near unhinged, and I fucking love how I can do that to him.

The room fills with our cries of pleasure, throaty, primal grunts from him and needy whimpers from me. Together, we’d wake the house if there was anyone else in it, but even if there were, at the moment, I don’t care. I just want him to ruin us both.

“Gonna come, Len…,” he grits, too absorbed to finish his sentence.

“Need you with me.” He pumps my cock as fast as our position will allow, the dual sensation of being filled and jerked toppling my senses into overdrive.

My mind goes dark as my vision goes white, and deep inside my core, sparks ignite.

A breathless wail erupts from my throat as my balls erupt, shock waves rippling through my body.

Axel thrusts into me one final time and stays buried deep, rocking against me as the tip of his cock pulsates inside.

Or maybe that’s my body passing its contractions to him.

I don’t even care which, so long as I don’t have to leave this blessed euphoria.

“Damn,” Axel whispers when he catches his breath, so soft I almost can’t hear it. “You really are a little devil.”

“What?” My sex-addled mind doesn’t follow the devil reference, although it’s not so foggy it doesn’t recognize that orgasm was off the Richter scale, and not just in the physical way that leaves only your body sated. What that means—I don’t want to comprehend right now.

“You were a dangerous temptation before you let me inside your body, and now…” His cock slips from me as he leans over to kiss the back of my neck—a far too tender gesture for what we just did—leaving me disconnected.

A sudden chill slips down my spine, and not because I’m naked from the waist down. “Now what ?”

“Nothing.” He helps me to stand and strips off my shirt, eyes going lusty at the sight of my bare chest. “Get in bed.”

Feeling unusually self-conscious, I do as he says and climb under the covers.

He strips off his shirt and joins me, tucking me into his side as he leans back against the headboard.

It’s too familiar. Too intimate. I don’t have the strength to protest or the headspace to think about what we’re doing though.

“Gonna need a minute before round two, Len. That wore me out.”

“It must have. You can't even finish my name.” I snip, more out of fear than because I want to be difficult.

“Is Leni any better?” He runs his fingers absently along my arm.

I pinch the side of his pec hard enough to leave a mark.

“Back to this biking fantasy of yours. Why do you love it so much? Biking, I mean.” I know we’re dangerously close to pillow talk right now, which is damn near as terrifying as the idea of him holding me, but I need something to distract myself from thinking about how we’re cuddled in his bed.

About how I should move but can’t bring myself to do it.

I’m hoping if he talks about his work that’ll calm my nerves.

“The speed. The thrill. Flying through the air. Going wherever you want, since there’s no roads. All of it.”

“I’ve never ridden on a bike before,” I admit without thinking.

“That’s something we’ll have to fix while I’m here, then.”

I don’t love the idea of ' fixing' anything together, so having him acknowledge that his stay is temporary sets me at ease. Although, the idea of getting on a bike with him, the freedom of it, makes me jittery with anticipation. What the actual F, Lennon? Get it together.

“The bike fantasy is that important to you, huh?” I trace my finger around his nipple, thinking if I steer us back to sex, I’ll be on safer ground.

“Biking and screwing, remember?” He lets his hand drop to my ass and gives it a little pinch. “Seriously, though, riding is more invigorating than anything else in life. Even sex. Most of the time.” He gives a humorless little laugh.

I don’t know what to say to that, so I say nothing, just zone out watching my finger draw imaginary circles on his chest... and wake up cradled in his arms the next morning. Not a good move, Lennon.

“Morning.” Axel drags his finger up and down my arm. “Sleep well.”

“Like the dead, apparently. I thought we were only taking a rest.” I stretch my arm above my head, which I realize after it's too late presses my morning wood into his thigh.

“I thought so, too. Then the light was peeking through the curtains. You outta here?” He watches me as I sit up and scoot to the edge of the bed.

“Yeah.”

“You know…” The sheet falls to his waist as he sits up against the headboard, highlighting the bulge between his legs.

“Including today, I’ve only woken up next to someone twice, and so far, neither time has resulted in sex.

I was under the impression that’s one of the perks of sleeping in the same bed. ”

“Not when I’ve got a food delivery at nine.” I ignore the hum of electricity he ignites between my legs.

“We can be quick.”

“Not that quick. ”

“What if we just rub our dicks together then? I still wanna try that.”

I freeze before I can push myself off the bed, casting him a curious look over my shoulder. “You want to try that?”

“What?” He lifts an awkward shoulder. “It sounds hot.”

“It is. You haven’t done that before?”

“You know I haven’t.” His brows pull together like he’s trying to hold back what he really wants to say. What that could be I have no idea.

“How would I know you’ve never frotted?”

He rolls his eyes, giving up the effort to be polite. “Because I told you.”

“You told me you’d never sucked another man’s cock. That you sucked mine because you got a craving .”

“Yeah, and?” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Are you saying you’ve never been with a man before until…” I can’t get the rest of the words out.

“Until you? Yeah, that’s what I told you the other night.”

“You didn’t use those exact words.”

“Was I supposed to?”

“It would’ve been helpful,” I grit with more calm than I feel.

“Why?”

“Why?” I repeat. “Cause I didn’t want to be anyone’s first.” I pop off the bed and start pacing, not giving a shit that it puts my dick on display. “That means something to people.”

“Whoa, I didn’t say I was a virgin.” He holds his hand up like a stop sign.

“Virgin, baby bi, call it what you want but most guys don’t just arbitrarily decide to fuck other guys. It’s something they’ve been thinking about for a while before acting on it, ergo it has meaning. We—” I draw an imaginary line between us “—aren’t supposed to have meaning.”

“Okay A, I did arbitrarily decide to fuck you since I think you’re sexy as fuck—you’re welcome. And B, with chemistry like ours there was always gonna be meaning. Not soulmate meaning but… some type of connection. I don’t see what gender has to do with it.”

“I…” I can’t even argue with him since that’s how I approach sex, although that’s not something I just recently discovered.

“And C,” he continues, “it feels a lot like you’re judging me again when you don’t know me that well.”

Damn him for being sexy and smart.

“You’re right.” I face him even though my eyes are shut, too ashamed to look at him. “I assumed being your first would somehow make me more important and I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Well,” he drawls, and I open my eyes to find him wearing a guilty smile.

“I’m not gonna lie and say it isn’t a big deal that I’m suddenly into a guy when I never have been before.

But I’m also not gonna read too much into the fact my dick really likes your ass.

And your mouth. Also, my best friend is bi, so I’m not freaking out that I might be.

I just want to enjoy discovering all the different ways we can make each other feel good. So, come over again tonight?”

My mouth bobs, searching for words as I try to wrap my head around all that. On the one hand, I get what he’s saying, and I respect it. On the other… “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to fall into that pattern.”

“What pattern?” His voice is stiff. Guarded.

I glance at him from the side of the bed, trying not to let those whiskey-brown eyes sway me. “Staying over. Seeing you every night that you’re here. Once is… well, once. Twice is a pattern. I'm not sure it's a good idea… ”

“Didn’t we agree to have fun while it lasted? Are you not enjoying this?”

“I am.” I lift my shoulder a fraction and turn away to look for my bag so I don’t ogle the lean muscles on his smooth chest. “I just don’t do this sort of thing often, and never for multiple days.” Remembering it’s at the foot of the bed, I head there to retrieve it.

“That makes two of us. But I don’t see the harm in enjoying this for as long as it lasts.”

I thought he’d be easier to deny if I couldn’t see him, though even without that sexy body filling my vision, I’m disturbingly conscious of what I’d be giving up if I hold firm. I do like what we’re doing, and it’s only eight more days…

“I guess there isn’t any.” I pull on a pair of underwear, forest green this time, pretending I don’t notice the way he admires my package in lace briefs. “I really need to stay at my own place tonight, though. I’ve got laundry and I want to shower in the morning.”

“Shower here,” he interjects.

“It’s not the same. All my stuff is at my place.”

“Fine. I’ll meet you when you get off and we’ll go to your house.” His unwavering stare tells me this is his final concession. I hate that his insistence makes my stomach flutter.

“I’ll be done at nine.”